


bruise-resistant

by mcwho



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bottom Bucky Barnes, Bucky Is Determined To Fuck One Into Him, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Steve Rogers Has No Survival Instinct, Top Steve Rogers, surprisingly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 22:06:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15895056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcwho/pseuds/mcwho
Summary: Steve’s fighting five against one, of fucking course, fending them off with only his shield,why has this asshole never got a gun on him.





	bruise-resistant

There’s a certain release that comes from a good fight.

Sparring gives Bucky a similar feeling, but then he’s pulling punches. No matter how much Steve insists that he ‘can take it’, Bucky could never bring himself to grab Steve by his neck and then tackle him to the ground like he’s doing now, fighting off eerily human-like aliens with glowing purple eyes. 

If he applies enough pressure, their tracheas will burst before they can sink their terrifyingly sharp, probably venom-coated teeth into him, and then he can just shove them aside and leave them there to suffocate.

“I can take it,” Bucky’s ass. Steve has a death wish, he swears.

“Barnes, incoming,” Stark calls in his ear. Bucky deflects four bullets with his arm, shoots the perpetrator in his stomach, and then checks his surroundings as best he can in the midst of the wreckage. He’s clear, for now. 

“Thanks,” he says. “Steve?”

“Still good, Buck,” Steve says too quickly, immediately arousing Bucky’s suspicions.

Bucky hasn’t actually seen Steve since the battle began, all of them having been called into the middle of the city suddenly upon the news of the invasion, like some on-call firefighters on steroids. 

Steve had run right towards the mothership on top of a Macy’s, where all the extra-terrestrials were pouring out and into the city, arguably into certain death, and blatantly ignored everyone who had yelled after him not to. 

Heroic or stupid? Depended on who you asked.

“We don’t have these comms for you to check up on your boyfriend every ten minutes,” Clint snickers.

“Risk your life for the good of America a few times and maybe I’ll start checking up on you too, C. Sam gimme a lift.”

“What’s the magic word?” Sam calls, drawing out the _o_ in ‘word’, literally doing a loop-de-loop above Bucky’s head with an alien hanging off of his boot.

Bucky makes a mental note to get them all psych evals after this. It’s clearly been a while. Maybe his therapist Theresa could take them all in. She could help Steve out with his huge Superman complex and his inherent need to jump headfirst into every losing battle he could find. _The serum amplifies everything inside_. Gee, thanks a bunch, Erskine. 

“ _Now_ ,” Bucky snarls at the winged fuck flying around him in circles. Sam shoots an alien off of a hovercraft coming their way, and the flying vessel crashes into Bucky’s favourite Lush, the only one he’s ever been to with staff that don’t bombard him as soon as he walks in the door and trigger his fight or flight response. 

This day just sucks, through and through.

“That glare-growl combo might’ve worked better when your little buddy was around,” Sam says, swooping down to hook some sort of bungee-jumping clip into Bucky’s belt loop and then taking off again, not even bothering to ask where to.

He drops Bucky off on the rooftop of the Macy’s, salutes him, and then flies off.

“Did you just call the Winter Soldier Barnes’ ‘little buddy’?” Natasha asks, a little breathless, so Bucky knows she’s under some strain that would probably have a normal person gasping for air. 

He’s not entirely sure Natasha hasn’t got at least a _little_ super-soldier serum running through her veins.

“You need backup?” Bucky asks her, kicking open the door on the roof leading to a stairway. The roof is empty by now, only the ship left, but he can hear crashing inside.

“No,” Natasha says. 

“On it,” Clint tells him, going, Bucky assumes, to help her out anyway. Macy’s rattles with an explosion a few seconds later. Bucky’s surprised the building’s still standing at all. Probably won’t be for long.

He sprints down the stairs, heart beating a little faster as he gets closer and hears the all-too familiar grunts of Steve in battle. He’s on the second floor, the ceiling crumbling on top of him. Steve’s fighting five against one, of fucking course, fending them off with only his shield, _why has this asshole never got a gun on him_.

Bucky is all over that shit, immediately. He takes down the two on Steve’s left flank in seconds before grabbing and throttling the one attempting to claw Steve’s face off, flinging him through the window across the room. 

“‘Still good’?” Bucky hisses, sticking his knife in the fourth one while Steve decks the fifth in the head. “Still _good_?”

“Uh oh,” Stark sing-songs. 

“I _was_ good!”

“Like fuck you were,” Bucky yells, grabbing a knife out of his belt as defence in case they’re suddenly attacked again while Bucky’s tearing Steve a new asshole. 

“Admittedly, it is unwise to take the Captain’s word for it when he claims to be, ‘good’,” Thor chimes in. “He does have a tendency to be headstrong, as well as an inability to run from most dangers, the Atlantic Ocean included.” As Thor finishes speaking, a roaring blast of thunder and lightning makes the stores remaining lightbulbs flicker and then shatter, raining glass down on them, Steve grabbing Bucky and covering them both with his shield.

Bucky takes a hot second to breathe deeply through his nose, before deciding to channel his anger into saving New York City, and come back to this later. They were probably almost done anyway. Fights never lasted long after Thor started channelling the elements. He works his way out of Steve’s grip.

“Buck–”

“Don’t ‘Buck’ me,” Bucky mutters, going for the window. “Sam.”

“On it,” Sam says, already flying by to grab him again.

Steve jumps out of the window and lands on his feet like a cat. 

***

The worst thing about being mad at Steve is that it’s only pure rage for maybe sixty seconds, if that. After that its just frustration, annoyance, and a general sense of betrayal. A clusterfuck of emotions that only Steve can pull out of him all at once.

He sits in medical while a nurse cleans up his cuts and grazes with antiseptic. He’d usually do it by himself at home, but he’d stomped into medical as soon as the fight was over – Steve was already following Bucky all over the place apologising, he figured he might as well use his momentary upper-hand to lead him into a hospital and get him professionally checked out.

As it is, Steve sits on the examination table opposite Bucky, getting increasingly louder with each passing minute Bucky ignores him (Buck, come on, please talk to me. Tony tested their venom right after, says it wouldn’t even have been poisonous to me anyway because my metabolism’s too fast, and they never did any real damage anyway, so I was never in any real danger. _Bucky_ ).

The nice nurse mopping the blood off Bucky’s face and also doing a great job at ignoring the whiny super-soldier three feet to their left pats Bucky’s cheek and says, “All done, sweetheart. You need me to call Theresa for you, hon?”

“I’ll call her later,” Bucky says. He’s definitely making that appointment for Steve too. “Thank you.”

Steve makes a sound of anguish when Bucky gets up and opens the door.

“ _Bucky_ ,” he yowls, following him into the hallway. Steve barely had a scratch on him that hadn’t already healed. Fucker probably thought accelerated healing meant he was completely invincible. “Come _on_ , I’m sorry.”

“Ooo, still in the doghouse, huh, Cap?” Stark sighs as they round a corner to see him depositing a note into a vending machine. “Been there. The greater good doesn’t always look so great, huh? You guys want Twizzlers? This machine doesn’t give change, so I had to get twelve packs.”

***

Bucky angrily stuffs two Twizzlers into his mouth while standing in front of their TV and watching the news.

Steve stands to his right, shuffling uncomfortably.

“Captain America was seen boarding the mothership, we assume he accessed their control centre in some way, cutting off any remaining aliens access to Earth, before heroically entering their base located inside of the department store. We can only assume how many of these creatures he battled on his own before being joined by Sergeant Barnes, and luckily, too, as we can see, the building collapsed in on itself just seconds after they both left–”

Bucky rewinds it, and plays it again.

“Buck, don’t,” Steve sighs.

“ _Heroically_ ,” the reporter enthuses.

“I was never in any real danger, you know that–”

“ _We can only assume how many_ –”

“I get that you worry, of course I do, I worry about you too–”

“ _Seconds after they both left_ –”

Steve grabs the remote out of Bucky’s hand and turns the TV off. 

Bucky turns on his heel and walks towards the bathroom, letting his hair down from its loose bun. Steve’s so stubborn, he _never listens_ if there’s something or someone at risk, doesn’t matter who they are, and Bucky’s allowed to be pissed about the fact that America eats that shit up. They hail him as a hero for risking his life again and again and again, like that’s all he’s for, like he doesn’t have his own life, like there aren’t people who _need him_.

Bucky needs Steve like breathing.

He’ll be damned if Steve’s laying down his life for _anybody_ any time soon.

Is it selfish of Bucky? Fucking maybe. But Bucky thinks he’s allowed to be a little selfish these days, and hell, so is Steve. God knows they’ve both earned it.

He strips out of his clothes, dirty and sweaty and bloody, leaving them on the ground and stepping into the shower. He faces the stream and pretends to be deaf and blind when Steve opens the bathroom door and then leans against the shower door, peering in at him like some All-American Pervert.

“I’m sorry,” he says. Steve’s already all clean, showered at the hospital before his full-body examination Bucky demanded he have. He’s wearing the shirt Bucky ordered for him a few weeks back as a joke, dark blue with ‘im too artificially enhanced for this shit’ printed on the front in white. 

Bucky looks at him through the foggy glass for a few long seconds. 

Fucking Steve.

“Go take your clothes off,” he says, eventually.

Steve perks up considerably, already thumbing at the hem of the ludicrously tight t-shirt. Bucky purposely ordered it two sizes too small. Steve probably couldn’t even breathe right now. “Are you sure? Are we okay?”

“Of course, we’re okay, Steve. I tried to flatten your skull in a jet over the Potomac and we were still okay. Now go take your clothes off so I can show you how fucking okay we are.”

Steve pauses, then repeats, “Okay,” that little glint of hope in his eyes he got when he made a dumb joke and wanted Bucky to laugh.

Bucky tries not to crack a smile and fails, and Steve grins, satisfied, then puts Bucky’s clothes that he’d left on the floor in the laundry hamper, and leaves the bathroom, pulling his shirt off as he goes.

Bucky’s heart is full, and his dick is suddenly half hard. Annoyance, love and arousal is a funny combination but one he’s gotten used to, being with Steve. He wants to swaddle him in a blanket and keep him home all the time. He wants to ride Steve so deep into the mattress it re-calibrates his brain and refreshes the lobe that controls his survival instinct. Maybe Steve just doesn’t have one.

After he’s rinsed and repeated, Bucky shuts the shower off, grabbing the fluffy towel off the rack and doing a half-assed drying job, walking into their bedroom. Steve’s on the bed, eyes shut, naked, a hand wrapped around himself. His eyes flicker open when Bucky comes in, and he starts stroking.

“Did I say you could touch?” Bucky asks, rubbing the towel through his hair. 

Steve eyes him for a second, before shaking his head. “No,” he says.

“No,” Bucky repeats. “That’s just like you, isn’t it? You just do what you want.”

Steve’s eyes trail over Bucky’s body, slowly, in a way that makes heat rush down Bucky’s spine and into his dick. Definitely fully hard now.

“You said we were good,” Steve reminds him, talking to Bucky’s face, to his credit. “No take-backs.”

“I said we were okay,” Bucky huffs, crossing the room over to the bed, dropping the towel on the gorund. “’Good’ was what you supposedly were back at that Macy’s. Don’t get friendly yet, punk. Hands off.”

Steve takes his hands off of himself and then clasps them behind his head, looking up at Bucky with the cool confidence of someone with a former deadly assassin wrapped around his dumb sausage fingers. Bucky straddles Steve all the same, his thighs wrapping around that ridiculously tiny waist.

Steve grins and says, “Hey.”

Bucky places both hands on either side on Steve’s head, leans down, and kisses him. His tongue slips into Steve’s mouth, and Steve makes that nice sound he makes in his throat, one of his hands coming free and slipping up into Bucky’s hair.

Bucky grabs it with his left hand, shoving it back against the pillow. 

Bucky says into his mouth. “I said, hands off.”

“Buck,” Steve says pitifully, slowly twisting his wrist out of Bucky’s grasp, muscles ripping beneath the skin. “Come on, sweetheart, just let me–”

“You disobeying orders, Rogers?”

“No,” Steve says, smile in his voice, entirely too amused by Bucky’s stern alpha timbre. “No, sir.”

“Thought not,” Bucky says. “Now keep your hands above your head before I do it for you.”

“Oh yeah? You gonna tie me up?” Steve asks, wriggling underneath him. Bucky pushes down harder on top of him, both their dicks pressed together. The more Steve wriggles, the more Bucky struggles to hold him down, the more his cock leaks. He ignores it, for now.

“Gonna tie you down and _leave_ you here, you obstinate fuck,” Bucky tells him, rutting forwards, grabbing Steve’s other hand as it makes it’s way to his waist and pinning it down above his head, too. “Stay still.” 

Steve’s cock twitches against Bucky’s thigh.

“How can I?” He asks, rutting up against him. “Can’t concentrate with you all over me like this, honey.”

Bucky tightens his grip on Steve’s wrists, resting their foreheads together. “Keep them there,” he tells him, before releasing him and reaching over into the bedside table to grab his lube out of the drawer. Bucky shuffles backwards again, sitting in between Steve’s spread thighs and popping the cap open, before leaning back onto his elbows, getting his fingers slick. 

“Buck,” Steve moans, watching him push a finger into himself. It doesn’t feel as good as when Steve stretches him out, but Steve needs to learn that actions have _consequences_. “Come on, baby, let me – just let me–”

“Like hell,” Bucky huffs, tilting his head backwards and then sinking down flat on his back, putting on a show. He rocks his hips a little and Steve lets out an agonised groan, sitting up a little for a better view. He moves his hands, of course he does, Bucky sees him practically itching to reach over and touch, his cock flushed an angry red at the tip. “Behave and maybe I’ll let you put it in me.”

Bucky pushes another finger into himself, pressing back against the dull burn of the stretch before working the digits out, and back in again, sighing softly. His eyes flicker open and he looks at Steve, the way he’s looking at him, eyes dark, practically drooling.

“No, I think you’re gonna take it anyway, aren’t you?” Steve says, voice low. “Good behaviour or not.”

“Shut it,” Bucky bites out. Another finger. “Don’t – _ah_ –wanna hear it, you sit there and think about what you did.” 

Steve is blatantly watching Bucky’s fingers disappear into his hole, he doesn’t even seem to be listening. “Yeah,” he breathes. “That’s it, so open already, nice and wet–”

“ _Steve_ ,” Bucky starts, only to be cut off when his curling fingers brush his prostate. He shudders, hips moving of their own accord. He leaks pre-come onto his belly, groaning quietly. 

“Look at you,” Steve says, moving now, a hand by Bucky’s foot, leaning on it and staring right between Bucky’s spread knees. “Gorgeous. You’re blushing.” How could he _not_ , the way Steve’s looking at him.

“ _What did I fuckin’ say_.”

“Hands behind my head, stay still, don’t touch,” Steve tells Bucky’s asshole. Steve licks his lips. “All stretched out, could just slide right in, give you what you need.”

Bucky’s panting, three fingers pressed against his spot. “ _Jesus_ ,” he moans, back arching, hot all over. “Get – come here,” he pants, wrapping a hand around his cock. Steve wouldn’t shut up, fine, he’d shut him up himself.

Steve’s eyes light up, shuffling closer. As soon as he’s close enough, he leans down, hands braced on either side of Bucky’s waist, and mouths along his shaft. Bucky whines, arching off of the bed, his cock sliding along Steve’s pouty lips. Steve trails lower, his chin bumping against Bucky’s fingers, tongue laving over his balls. Steve closes his eyes and moans, eyes shut, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses all over him, before sucking a mark into Bucky’s thigh.

“Hey,” Bucky pants, flicking Steve in the back of his head. “Hey, hey, no thigh action, put that mouth to good use or get it off – _oh, fuck_.” Steve swallows him down all at once, takes Bucky in all the way back to his throat. Bucky’s fingers twist inside himself and Steve moans vibrate all around him.

Steve’s lips and tongue work him over, his hands still firmly planted on the bed next to him. Bucky grips Steve’s hair and cants his hips up into the heat of Steve’s mouth and Steve just takes it, letting Bucky fuck his throat, head spinning with pleasure, his lower stomach tightening dangerously. Steve always looks so fucking good sucking cock.

Bucky cards his fingers through Steve’s hair, then pulls him off of him. Steve blinks up at him, lips slick, swollen red. Bucky scrambles to his knees, pushing Steve onto his back.

“What are you–” Steve begins, but then Bucky’s straddling him and Steve’s groaning out an, “Oh, God.”

Bucky reaches back, wrapping a hand around Steve. Steve curses, arching into his grip as Bucky slowly sinks down on him. Bucky’s mouth falls open as he rotates his hips down onto Steve, buried inside him all the way. 

“Shit, fuck,” he gasps out, raising himself, before sinking all the way back down. Steve throbs inside him, a hand going to Bucky’s waist before Bucky bats it away.

“Come on, Buck, let me touch, baby, look so good, can’t keep my hands off,” Steve wheedles, his fists gripping the sheets so tight they might tear. 

“God, can you just fucking do as you’re told for once?” Bucky grunts, breathless with the rise and fall, Steve’s body arching against him and meeting him there each time. Steve’s cock drags against his spot when he leans forward a little, which is just as well because then Bucky can watch Steve slowly fall apart, eyes roaming all over his body.

“Okay, it’s – I get it, no more risks if I can help it, promise.”

“You _wait for backup_ ,” Bucky hisses, sinking all the way back down until Steve’s buried inside him to the hilt. “You _let us know if you need help_ ,” he says, tightening around him.

“Fuck, _yes_ , I’ll – it won’t happen again, ‘ll be more careful, sweetheart, come on–”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re full of shit, Rogers, say anything once your dick’s wet,” Bucky pants, really moving now, fucking himself on Steve’s cock.

“ _Jesus_ , Bucky,” Steve says, _whining_ , face flushed, eyes dark. “Come on, baby, I promised, ’m forgiven now, ain’t I?”

“Forgiving and forgetting are two different – _Steve_ ,” Bucky gasps. Both of Steve’s huge hands are suddenly on his ass, squeezing his cheeks, the _nerve_. One of Steve’s fingers slip between the crack and press against Bucky’s slick hole while the other slides up to Bucky’s chest, a thumb teasing at his nipple.

“God, yeah, just like that,” Steve sighs, applying just a little pressure against Bucky’s rim, almost like he’s going to push the digit inside, too, and Bucky hisses. “You like that, don’t you?”

“You’re the worst,” Bucky grunts, cock drooling obscenely. He puts his palms on Steve’s dumb broad chest, using it as leverage. “Here you are, promisin’ me you’ll follow instructions from – ugh – from now on, and what do you g- go do right after? Exactly what I told you not t– _fuck_ , _fuck me_ , yeah, right there, yes, fuckfuckfuck, Steve–”

“That’s it,” Steve mumbles, wrapping a fist around Bucky’s cock and pumping lazily. “So good, Buck, so good for me, ‘m gonna – you’re gonna make me come, I can’t–”

Bucky’s done for before Steve’s even done talking, spurting off all over Steve’s stomach, his whole body trembling with it. Steve pulls him down against him afterwards, hands all over Bucky’s body like he needs to touch him everywhere before he can finish. Bucky moans at the aftershocks as Steve fucks into his body until he’s spilling inside him, too.

Bucky lays with his face in Steve’s neck, panting. Steve’s arms wrap around him, fingers playing with his hair. 

“I mean it,” Bucky mumbles into Steve’s shoulder. “No more self-sacrificial bullshit.”

“No more self-sacrificial bullshit,” Steve repeats, kissing Bucky's head.

**Author's Note:**

> alt summary: bucky agressively caring about steve ft dicks
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


End file.
